


things he didn't know (until he did)

by PeachyKeener



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Harley Keener Needs a Hug, I really like this, M/M, Mentioned Abuse, Parkner Week, Parkner Week 2020, Peter Parker centric, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter at the beginning of this fic: I hate harley, Peter having been seperated from harley for one day: AM I IN LOVE WITH HIM??, Precious Peter Parker, SO, anyway, fuck you, harley gets turned into a kid, harleys dads a SHIT, its funny bc it was supposed to be a drabble, one of the parkner week propmts was time travel, peter parker fucks up, peter struggling with his feelings and himself?? yeah, precious harley keener, this is part of parkner week now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyKeener/pseuds/PeachyKeener
Summary: Harley hadn’t screamed, or made a noise, or said anything, but the boy was gone. He scrambles to the benches, not able to process anything. And then he stopped, because Harley was gone but Harley’s clothes weren’t, and the hoodie, and shirt, and jeans were laying over a tiny lump and the feeling and Peter’s chest grew tighter and then-A little boy, with blonde curls and bright blue eyes sat up.(Peter Parker struggles with his feelings and its all made harder by how his crus- frien-rivalis turned into a five year old.)
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange (mentioned)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 269
Collections: Marvel





	things he didn't know (until he did)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to chaoticravenouswolf for giving me the prompt for this,, erm,,, "drabble." Yes. Lets call this 7k fic a drabble. this is a drabble now. This is what a drabble looks like. I am so good at this answering prompts thing, I cried like three times looking at this. 
> 
> An e way 
> 
> Thank you so much to Sarah for beta reading this!!

“Seriously?” Peter huffed, scrambling to pick up the papers that Harley’s Spider-Bot had knocked over, “Can’t you get a better control on that thing?”    
  
Harley rolled his eyes, fixing him with an assholish grin that made Peter want to scream, “She’s a learning ai. She needs to learn. Lighten up, Parker, it’s not like she ruined your paper or set them on fire again.”   
  
“The fact that that’s even happened once is annoying,” He took a sharp breath, trying to stop himself from snapping, crueler, harsher words at Tony’s other protege, “And if she’s a learning ai you should be  _ teaching  _ her not to do shit like that!”   
  
“God, will you please relax?”   
  
“No!” Some very cruel words popped into his head, but he shook them out. He wasn’t gonna allow himself to be dragged down to Harley’s level of annoying and petty, “Just- please control your bot better.”   
  


Harley just shrugged and Peter felt a vein throb in his forehead. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Harley Keener, and he hadn’t been the biggest fan since Harley had moved up to New York for  _ god knows why,  _ and started living next to  _ Peter’s  _ room in the tower, hanging out with  _ Peter’s  _ mentors, and  _ Peter’s  _ friends, and invading  _ Peter’s  _ life. Everything about Harley seemed to be designed to take over and ruin Peter’s life, one sarcastic comment after another. 

It pissed him off to no end. 

He hadn’t asked Mr. Stark to take up the new protege. It wasn’t his fault that Harley moved to New York. He didn’t want anything to do with the other boy. And yet he was stuck with Harley anyway. Everything about it was just so  _ unfair.  _ Harley was the kind of annoying that got under Peter’s skin. He noticed every little thing about the boy because how could he not when Harley was just  _ like that?  _ He was just- gah! Peter didn’t even wanna think about him. 

Or his stupid Spider-bot that was now  _ dumping the contents of Harley’s leftover coffee onto his science report.  _

“Harley!” He let out a strangled yelp, jerking to pull the boot off the paper, frantically picking it up and trying to save the smudged ink, “Dude-”   
  
“Shit man,” Harley blinked, interrupting him, “I’m sorry-”   
  
“I told you to control your bot!” The desperation of the situation was sinking in, “This paper is due tomorrow and you just- you  _ ruined it!” _

“Peter- I-”   
  
“You ruined it!” Frantically, he tried drying off the paper, only succeeding in smudging the ink to more and more levels of unreadable, “You ruined it! I worked hard on this- it took me five hours, and it's due tomorrow, and you ruined it! Just like you  _ ruin  _ everything!”   
  
The last words were a shout, so loud, that the room fell silent after that. Peter hadn’t realized he was going to say that. He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t think he was going to say that. But he said it. He said that Harley Keener ruined everything. 

The paper dropped from his hands as he turned to face Harley who looked… shattered at the statement. Guilt panged into his heart, “Harley- I-”   
  
“No,” The other boy’s voice almost broke, but he just cleared his throat and shook hid head, “You’re right. I should have had a better grip on her. I didn’t notice that she was gonna do that, and it’s my fault.”   
  
“No- Harley- I’m-”   
  
“It’s okay Peter,” Harley’s voice was quiet, “I get it. I uh… I guess I’ll go. So I don’t make more of a mess. Sorry.”   
  
Words failed to reach his mouth as Harley scrambled out of the room, and left Peter with a sinking feeling that he had done something absolutely too far, and too cruel, and everything Peter tried very hard not to be. It was just- this paper was important. This paper was really important. It was something he needed for school, and something that he cared about, and the fact he had asked Harley four times to stop his Spider-Bot from messing with him and then Harley didn’t do anything and now his paper was ruined and- 

And it all felt like a feeble attempt to justify telling someone that they ruin everything. Which was never okay, and he was certain that if his Uncle were here, Ben would be chewing him out for saying something like that and god, he really didn’t want to be a bad person. 

He could make it up to Harley later, he decided, turning to his project, because for now, he needed to deal with the utter devastation that had fallen on the project worth twenty five percent of his grade. 

  
  


Harley was avoiding him. Which… yeah, was fair, given what he said, but it still stung. They weren’t  _ friends _ not by a long shot, but the fact of the matter was that every time Peter came into a room, Harley would find a way to leave it. During the school day, Harley sat as far away from Peter as possible, and started ditching their friend group at lunch with the excuse of ‘tutoring’- which didn’t make sense because Harley had an IQ of 290 and was probably the smartest kid in the school, and it was made worse by the fact that Ned swore up and down he saw Harley eating alone on the bleachers outside of the school- and he never made eye contact with him. 

This entire time, Peter had been under the impression that he hadn’t wanted Harley around, but now that the boy wasn’t a constant presence in his side he was… lonely. He missed how Harley always had a quip for his jokes and never backed down from getting into an argument with him. He missed how Harley challenged him. He missed… Harley. He missed Harley’s laugh at lunch, and his smile in the hallways, and the way his eyebrows would quirk when Peter tried to disprove his hypothesis in the lab. 

But he just couldn’t seem to find a second alone with the other boy, and Harley was doing his absolute best to avoid him at all costs. Which was completely fair, and Peter had no one to blame but himself, and he hadn’t even realized he thought of Harley as a friend until that friendship was suddenly gone from his life, leaving an empty space at his side in all his day to day musings. It was just… gah. He was feeling things he didn't want to be feeling and he was  _ upset.  _

It made it worse that now that he’d done this, Mr. Stark was upset with him. Of course, Mr. Stark was incapable of expressing that, but Peter could see it in the set of his brow, and the way his worried eyes followed Harley whenever he left a room, after Peter came into it. He didn’t know if Harley had told their shared mentor what he had said, but he was praying that he hadn’t because Peter wasn’t sure he could handle the revelation that he missed Harley and the disappointment that would surely be on Mr. Stark’s face if he knew that Peter had told his other protege that he ruined everything. 

This week had kinda been hell. 

At least there was one place Harley couldn’t avoid him in the tower, and that was the training room. Harley’s Iron Lad design hadn’t been made public yet, due to a few kinks and clanks here and there, and the fact that Iron Lad wouldn’t debut until the debut of the official Young Avengers- a group of heroes 16 and older, meant for training and assuring the public that when one hero falls, there will always be more. Peter and Harley were supposed to lead it, and that meant training together. As a unit. A pair. 

“Oh-” Wanda called from the ground, “I didn’t realize you two were training.”    
  
Peter blinked at the interruption, but Harley responded faster than he could, “We weren’t really. Working on our own things before combining him, you know?”   
  
The lie was believable, especially considering Harley hadn’t been talking to him, or looking at him, or meeting his eyes for the past twenty minutes that Peter had been practically begging for him to do one of the three. He felt himself swallow, “Yeah. Our own things.”    
  
“Well, I’ll wait then,” the witch hummed, accent thick and smile friendly, “I have a few new spells to practice. Doctor Strange lent me this new book, and I was hoping to master at least one of them before he came back to the tower for his date night with Tony.”    
  
“You can practice,” Harley said, again, before Peter could get a word in, “I was gonna take a water break anyway, and scroll on my phone for a few minutes, so It’ll just be you and Peter on the actual training ground, and I’ll be on the benches.”    
  
His chest tightened, “Do you want to get water with me Harley?”    
  
“No,” The other boy's voice was really quiet and he still wasn’t looking at Peter, and Peter’s eyes felt hot, and god dammit, “No, I know your training’s important. It’s okay.”    
  
The Iron Lad suit landed, and Harley walked out of it, eyes downcast. If Wanda noticed anything, she didn’t say anything. Peter didn’t know whether to be grateful, or upset. Considering he was already teetering on the verge of tears, upset seemed the way to go. 

But he couldn’t control how Harley reacted to him. He could only control himself and his actions, so he breathed out, and threw himself back into training, trying hard to ignore how Harley was on the bench with his back turned away from them, not talking or looking or thinking about him. His chest tightened even further. 

Peter’s entire world seemed to tunnel vision and all the thoughts in his head were preoccupied. How could he ever make it up to Harley if he couldn’t even get Harley to  _ look  _ at him? How could he  _ prove  _ he was sorry if Harley wouldn’t speak to him? This was agony. Hell. All he wanted was to make it up, to have them go back to being  _ friends _ because that’s what he  _ wanted  _ now that he knew what life was like without Harley in it!

He was selfish and stupid and he missed the other boy so much. He missed how they bounced off each other when they worked, and how Harley always knew whether he was gonna curve left or right during training, and he was totally fucked because  _ he  _ had dug this grave and now he had to lie in it. It wasn’t Harley that had made him say those things. Those words came out of his mouth and his brain, and a part of him had probably been thinking like that for a while because of how it just slipped out. 

The words were cruel and unjust and wrong, and he  _ knew better  _ now that Harley had dropped him, and he  _ knew  _ how painfully wrong they were. Harely didn’t ruin everything. Harley made his life  _ better.  _ He made Peter  _ happy.  _ Their banter, their interactions, the way they spoke to each other, how they always seemed to egg each other on, it made Peter  _ happy.  _ Why he couldn’t see it before- he was so in his own head about what their dynamic was, he completely overlooked how happy their dynamic made him. 

Not all fights have to mean your enemies, and not all arguments had to pit you against a person, and Peter was  _ stupid,  _ and  _ foolish,  _ and downright  _ awful  _ to think that he and Harley- 

A bright red light flashed across the room, blinding him for a second, and pulling him out of his thoughts. He barely had time to catch himself from falling to the ground, when he registered what happened, head snapping to Wanda, “What happened?!”    
  
But Wanda wasn’t looking at him, instead her wide eyed, pale, terrified face was staring toward the benches in the training room. Peter’s stomach dropped. 

Harley hadn’t screamed, or made a noise, or said anything, but the boy was gone. He scrambles to the benches, not able to process anything. And then he stopped, because Harley was gone but Harley’s clothes weren’t, and the hoodie, and shirt, and jeans were laying over a tiny lump and the feeling and Peter’s chest grew tighter and then- 

A little boy, with blonde curls and bright blue eyes sat up. His cheek was scuffed with dirt, and he had bruises all over his chest and arms. He couldn’t be any older than five. This little boy was… there was no way but.. this boy was…

The tiny baby Harley blinked up at them, sniffed, and began to bawl.

  
  


“The spell Wanda was practicing with was a really high level spell,” Stephen Stranger, the Sorcerer Supreme was frowning with crossed arms, watching them, “This is partially my fault. I should have told her not to practice with anything from the back of the book. The spell’s intended purpose was to take an object's action back in time. Basically- sending a bullet back to a gun, or turning a lamp off, or reversing the movement of a car. It’s not supposed to be used on humans.”    
  
Peter shifted the boy in his arms, but kept rocking him softly so that the four year old stayed asleep, “But- he’s-”   
  
“Gone back to the state he was in when he was four,” Doctor Strange said grimly. 

“How can you undo this?” Mr. Stark’s voice was very tight, “He wont stay like this forever right?”    
  
“It's hard to say,” Peter watched the doctor reach out to comfort his boyfriend, “But I do know that no spell is truly permanent. Especially with Wanda’s level of skill when it comes to fully formed spells. I’d give it a month at most, two days at least. This kind of thing- it's fickle, but it’ll pass.” 

He didn’t think the phase ‘it’ll pass’ should apply to the sleeping four year old. 

The last day had been a blur. Harley had gotten turned into a kid, and wouldn’t stop crying for the first thirty minutes. Peter had tried to calm down, and for his efforts the small child latched onto his side and wouldn’t let go. 

Tony had gotten there at the point where Harley had decided Peter was safe, and the reaction the small boy had to the adult was… less than stellar. He wasn’t surprised that Harley had started bawling when Tony reached for him, just judging by all the bruises on him. In his entire time of knowing Harley he hadn’t known about this side of him. 

A part of him was scoffing, asking himself  _ why  _ would Harley trust him with that information when Peter had been civil at  _ best  _ with the other boy. Another part of him, somewhere deep in the shadow of his brain, had cataloged how Harley had flinched when teachers reached to hand him things, had memorized how Harley used to count his breaths, had known and seen all the signs of an abused kid. 

But having the vague idea that your friend was abused in his childhood versus your friend’s four year old self appearing in the future and mistrusting all adults and latching onto you because you’re the only thing he sees as safe is two very very different things. 

For starters, it was one of those things that Peter was generally really shaky on- abuse, that was. He’d missed all the signs that Flash was being abused until it was almost too late, and ever since then, ever since almost failing to save his childhood friend, it was just one of those things he was shaky on. Which wasn’t an excuse because it wasn’t like  _ he  _ was the four year old child in a teens arms, covered in bruises. 

The little boy yawned, blue eyes blinking, “Where’s mama…”    
  
“Hey buddy,” Peter tried to keep his voice even, but this was a weird situation and he wasn’t sure how much composure he had in it truly, “Do you remember where you are?”    
  
Harley just blinked, and glanced around. Peter held his breath as the small child caught the eyes of the two adult men standing a few feet away from them. Harley’s grip on his shirt tightened exponentially and he started trembling, bottom lip pouting out as he fought back tears- something that made Peter wanna cry because what kinda childhood did Harley have if he was taught by habit to force down tears, “‘s- I can’ remem’er- where’s my mama?”    
  
“It's okay you can’t remember, Harley,” The words came out soft and soothing, “My names Peter. Remember? I had the cool spider on my chest earlier, with the cool red and blue suit.”   
  
“Oh,” Harley relaxed, “I remem’er you.”   
  
“That’s good!” Peter hummed, keeping his praise gentle so that the boy stayed relaxed, “And I remember you, Mister Harley. Do you remember mister Stark?” 

It was the wrong thing to say apparently, because the small boy pressed his face into Peter’s shoulder and let out a small hiccup, “I remem’er him. I’m sorry I for’ot him, please don’t be mad-”   
  
“No, buddy, hey,” Mr. Stark stepped forward, reaching to place a hand on Harley’s back, but stopped at Peter’s sharp glare, “No one’s gonna be mad at you. Okay? You’re a good kiddo, and no one’s gonna be mad at you. I promise.”    
  
“I’m sorry,” Harley sniffed,his tiny voice a whisper, “‘M not a bad kid, I’m sorry.”    
  
“You’re right,” shifting so Harley was looking at him, he said firmly, “You’re not a bad kid. You’re a really good kid. You remembered me and Mr. Stark, and that's really good Harley. You’re a good kid. No one here is mad at you, or disappointed in you. We’re here for you. You’re a good kid.”    
  
Hearing these words seemed to do some sort of trick, because Harley relaxed again, tears slowing, “Okay. Thank you, Mister Peter.”    
  
“Just Peter, kiddo,” He said softly, “alright, Mister Harley?”    
  
Harley giggled, the tears drying up completely, “You can’t call me mister! I’m not old!” 

“Oh really?” Putting a smile on the younger boys face was all that mattered right now, “I thought you were at least eleven! You’re a big kid right?”    
  
“I am a big kid,” The boy chirped softly, grin growing, “But I’m only four! Mama says that four is a good number, and she lets me read books made for ten year olds,” The grin slipped off his face, and he looked at Peter with curious eyes, “Where  _ is  _ my mama?”    
  
“Your mama…” He bit his lip, looking to Mr. Stark. 

The adults exchanged looks, clearly debating on what to tell the small boy. The kid was so young… it might be hard to explain what this all meant to him. Even if they could, would he be upset at the knowledge there was an older him that was now gone from this world? Would he understand? 

“Where,” Harley was trembling like a leaf in Peter’s arms, and all three of their heads snapped to the little boy, “Where is my mama- my- my dada didn’ hurt her right- where’s my mama!”   
  
“Oh-” He breathed out, because god fucking dammit why hadn’t they thought of that? He’d only heard Tony and Harley talk about Macy Keener a few times but it was  _ always  _ in a loving way- of course Harley’s dad was the one hurting him and of course he’d immediately think that his mom was getting hurt, “No. You’re dad  _ didn’t  _ hurt your mama. In fact, your mama went on vacation without your dad, and asked me and Mister Stark to watch you.”   
  
Harley blinked his giant blue eyes up at Peter, and breathed out, “Oh. Why didn’ mama take me?”   
  
“Well kiddo,” He racked his brain, trying to think of things Harley hated, “She’s going to England to see her mama, and she thought you wouldn’t like it there because it's got too many thunderstorms.”    
  
“Oh, that makes sense,” Harley nodded sagely and Peter was so glad that he knew of Harley’s absolute hatred of thunderstorms, and so glad that that hatred extended to his childhood, “What’s meemaw doing in Englan’?”    
  
Peter made a funny face, trying to get Harley to laugh, “You know, I don’t know. Maybe she’s having tea with the queen?”    
  
“My meemaw?” Giggling, Harley poked him softly, “Havin’ tea with the queen of Englan’? Meemaw wouldn’! She says that tea is for sucker’s and yankee’s and says she’s a dem-o-crat through and through!” Harley leaned in like he was telling a big secret, “I dunno what that means, but I know dad don’t really like it, so it’s pro’a’ly not bad.” 

“You're right,” He laughed, but kept his voice a whisper, like it was still a secret, “It's not bad.”    
  
Doctor Strange coughed awkwardly, and Harley tensed again, and Peter would have thrown hands right then and there if it wasn’t for the shaking four year old in his arms. Tony spoke before he could, sending his boyfriend a hard look, “Harley, kiddo, do you wanna try to go get something to eat?”    
  
It was like a switch had been flipped in Harley, and the boy who had leaned in to whisper about his grandma’s politics was no longer there. Instead he kept his eyes on the ground, voice quiet and trembling, and pressed even closer to Peter, “No, sir.”   
  
“Buddy,” Peter said softly, “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”   
  
“It ain’t supper time yet,” Harley mumbled, pressing even closer, “I don’ wanna get in trouble for eating out of turn.”    
  
Peter's stomach dropped and he could feel the two adults tense too. Eating out of turn? This kid was  _ four.  _ Harley was  _ four.  _ He was supposed to be concerned with race cars, and red, and TV shows, and whatever else four year olds liked, not whether or not he’d be getting punished for eating when he was hungry. 

Swallowing down bile, he hummed softly, “How about this- we still got an hour or two off from dinner, so why don’t you and I get a snack, and it’ll be our treat, okay?”

“Okay,” Harley nodded and blinked up at him, “Promise?”    
  
“I promise.”   
  
And that was that. 

  
  
  


Peter woke up at three am, laying on the couch in the common rooms, with the small- tiny, really- Harley thrashing on his chest, in the clutches of a bad dream. 

It took him a second to realize what was going on. Where he was. What had been happening. It came back to him in waves. First he had messed up him and Harley’s friendship, then Harley had ignored him for a week, then the fateful training session, then the first few days of little tiny baby Harley around the compound. 

Harley was a hit with everyone at the compound. It took him three days to warm up to the adults and he still didn’t like to be alone with Steve, but having seen pictures of Jack Vincent Peter and the rest of the avengers completely understood the fear of the tall blonde muscular man. He had grown really fond of Tony, though, and whenever Peter relented into his instincts and went on patrol, he would hand the small child off to Tony, reminding him to be careful and cautious. Harley was just a kid in a strange environment who needed some sort of safety and god dammit, Peter was going to be that safety. 

Secretly a part of him was relishing this. He liked kids, and he liked taking care of people, and this entire thing just established that when he grew up and got married he wanted to be a dad. He could imagine it now; getting home from a long day of work and kissing his wife or husband or spouse or whoever he ended up with, and then going to spend time with a kid. If he had a son, he was sure he’d name him Ben in honor of his uncle, and a daughter he thought Maria was a good twist on the name Mary. 

He imagined taking care of a small kid, and something  _ right  _ fell into place. Maybe he was only seventeen now, but he wouldn’t be seventeen forever. And wanting a kid before thirty wasn’t a bad thing right? Nah, it wasn’t, he decided, sleepily. A little boy with his curls and Harley’s blue eyes and his smile. 

Jerking, he sat up, but was careful not to jostle the restless kiddo on his chest. Had he just- no. He’d focus on that  _ later  _ when the object of said thought wasn’t a  _ child  _ and was back to being a seventeen year old boy. 

Besides, right now, he had to deal with whatever was making Harley shake in his sleep. 

“Buddy,” He murmured, rubbing soothing circles on the younger kids back, “C’mon, bud. It’s okay. I’ve got you. It's okay.”

Harley blinked, squirming awake, trembling hard, “‘M not bad- ‘m not bad-”   
  
“No, you’re not,” Peter kept rubbing his back, trying hard to be comforting. He wanted to show to Harley- to this  _ four year old-  _ that he was safe. That no one was gonna hurt him, “You’re not bad. You’re a good kid, Harls. You’re a good kid.”    
  
“Dad was,” his heart shattered, as Harley sniffed, and tears started welling in his eyes, like they’d been waiting to come out and now they were overflowing, “Dad was shoutin’ at me again, and callin’ me names again, and I jus’ wan’ed to tell mama that i wan’ed a hug, but I couldn’ because pawpaw was sick and she was  _ gone,  _ and dad was  _ screamin-  _ and Mr. Parker, I don’ wanna be bad- I can be good! I can be good!” 

Peter felt his heart shatter all over again. Harley hadn’t had a bad dream. Harley had a nightmare that was a  _ memory.  _ The way he was talking about it all… he was recalling a memory of his dad being mad and him not knowing what to do, and wanting to be good enough to earn the approval of a vile and vicious man. 

“I don’-” Harley sniffed again, this time choking back sobs, “I don’ wanna be the reason everythin’ goes wrong- I wanna be a good kid- I wanna be a good boy- i don’ wanna be bad- please, Mr. Parker, don’ let me be bad- I just wanna be good-”   
  
He swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d focus on the guilt rushing through him later, but right now, he wanted to help this kid, “You  _ are  _ good, Harley. You’re good. You’re an amazing kid. You’re  _ absolutely  _ good. Okay?”

“But-” Harley’s looking at him with wide blue eyes, and it's the same expression that Peter used to look at Ben with after his parents died. It's a scary, how much little kids rely on the strongest thing around them, and somehow, he just wants to be strong for Harley, “Dad said-”    
  
“You’re dad can be  _ wrong,”  _ His uncle Ben had been strong. When his parents died, he’d never seen Ben cry, just let Peter cry on his shoulder. This wasn’t the same situation at all, but he  _ prayed  _ that he could be like Ben, “You’re dad is wrong. Wanna know how I know?”   
  
“How do you know?”   
  
“Because I know you,” the words spilled out of him before he could really think about what he was saying. He didn’t know this Harley. He knew the Harley that had a bright smile, and always made a little trouble, and leaned into his friend’s touches. But… they were the same weren’t they? They had to be, “You’re smart- remember you built that dog with me and Mr. Stark? You’re so smart kiddo. I don’t know anyone else who could do that. You’re kind too, offering Mister Bucky the other half of your peanut butter sandwich. You’re clever, and gentle, and nice. You’re just like your mama.”    
  
The words had an impact on Harley, and the small kid breathed out softly, “I’m like my mama?”    
  
“Exactly like her.”    
  
“Oh.”    
  
“Yeah, oh,” He hummed, standing with Harley in his arms, he held him closer to his chest, “You’re good, Harls. No one else in the world is as good as you.”    
  
“But…” Harley sniffed again, but the tears had dried up a lot, “Dad said I mess everythin’ up. That I ruin everythin’. I make everyone’s life worse.”    
  
Peter had to close his eyes to stop tears to spring to his eyes. No wonder Harley had stopped talking to him, cut him out, wanted nothing to do with him. He had told him the same thing that he had probably heard his entire childhood until he was six or seven. He had done that. God he was such an idiot, such a bad person. Shaking his head, he put a stop on those thoughts, because he couldn’t take back his words, but he could say new ones. 

“You make my life better,” because Harley  _ did _ make his life better, even if he had been stupid before their fight and thought all he held was contempt for the other boy, “You don’t ruin anything, Harley. And… you’ve made my life so so much better. You make people around you happy, and you’re always there to offer a smile or a helping hand. You make people better, Harley. You don’t mess everything up. You don’t ruin everything. You’re a good person, Harls.”

“Thank you, Mister Parker,” the four year old curled closer to his chest, and Peter fought back a smile with how the kid didn’t sound scared or upset anymore, just sleepy, “You’re a real peach.”   
  
“Is that what your mama says?”   
  
“Mhmm,” Harley yawned, snuggling closer and Peter got them to a real bed, “She calls me a peach, and she calls Meemaw a peach, and she says her brother David was a peach.”   
  
“Well I’m glad I’m a peach too.”    
  
Silence fell around them, and Peter was left to his thoughts. He really messed up with the older Harley. He had said things and treated him in ways that wasn’t okay, and wasn’t what he wanted to be like. He was  _ Peter Parker.  _ He didn’t ever want to be the kind of person who said things like someone ruins everything. He didn’t want to be that person who yells and was angry and lashed out. He worked so hard over the past few years to make sure that he  _ wasn’t  _ that kid. He needed to work better- to be better. He would apologize when Harley got back, and they’d talk it out, and Peter would put everything into building whatever friendship they might have had back up. 

He thought Harley had fallen asleep, but the little boy sat up and reached for a framed photo on his night stand, “Who’s this?”    
  
The question startled him. Harley was pointing out his older self in the frame, standing next to Peter and squashed in between Tony and Rhodey. His heart panged, “His name’s Harley too.”   
  
“Oh,” Harley blinked, “Is he your boyfriend?”    
  
Peter could feel the rush of blood to his cheeks, and he struggled to find the words, “No! No. He’s- he’s not. Why do you ask?” 

“He’s not pretty,” Harley frowned and Peter frowned back because that was Halrey’s future self, “but you’re lookin’ at him like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Like how pawpaw looks at meemaw. ‘S just soft an’ sweet. ‘S like… he’s your roses and your pink hearts and your candy.”    
  
“Oh.” 

“Mama says havin’ a boyfriend’s okay if your a boy so long as you love each other,” The small boy yawned again, and blinked slowly, “I think she says that because my uncle david liked boys and wanted to marry one, then he died. It was sad.”    
  
“I bet it was,” his voice felt heavy, “He’s still not my boyfriend, Harley. In fact I- I was really really mean to him last time we spoke. And I really really regret it. I wanna apologize to him real badly, but I can’t yet. He means… he’s- I want him to be my best friend, I think. He’s a real sweetheart and I just… I’m very sorry for what I said to him.” 

Harley’s eyes were drooping, but he reached up to pat Peter’s cheek, “It’ll be okay. Mama says when you’re really sorry, you can always make things better.” 

“I don’t know if I can make this better,” admitting this was probably the hardest thing he had to do, “But I really wanna try. He’s just- he means a lot to me.”    
  
“Cause,” Harley yawned big again, blue eyes blinking shut, “He’s the pawpaw to your meemaw.”    
  
This time, he felt Harley’s breathing even out and he knew he was asleep. The words of this conversation washed over him and he breathed out quietly. 

Did he have a crush on Harley? Was he… was Harley everything that the four year old could pick up on from a photo? It.... it would explain how he always noticed Harley, every single time they were in the same room. He had thought Harley got under his skin, wanted his attention, wanted to make him upset but- what if he had been reading into it too much? What if Harley hadn’t wanted to get under his skin? What if- 

Too many what ifs. Anymore and he’d start spiraling. Instead he shoved all the questions in his head aside, because it really wasn't right to think about this all right now. 

When Harley was back to  _ his  _ Harley, he’d think about it. 

  
  


Peter spent two weeks chasing around little baby Harley from one place to another. The boy was bright and he always liked to keep Peter on his toes by doing something or another that Peter told him not to do. He swore he was gonna have a heart attack if he woke up from their mid day nap- because yes, Peter was Harley’s favorite pillow, and he’d take any chance at sleep he could get- and Harley was gone, running down the halls. Every single trip to the lab made him have a heart attack, if he was honest. So many sharp things that a little tiny boy should not be touching or playing with and god, somehow he found prototype iron man gloves and- Peter was trying his best. 

Genuinely, though, he loved the time he spent with little Harley. Little Harley had solidified something in his chest, and that was the strong and steady desire to have a family one day. A few kids of his own, kids he would get to take care of, and be there for, and watch grow up. It made him happy to think of if he was honest. An apartment in queens, a baby girl and a five year old boy. Tucking them in and going off as spidey, knowing that his Har- whoever he ended up with would be watching them. He bet that he’d call home at least twice a night just to make sure that his babies were okay. 

That was something he wanted. The future. Blinking, he finally opened his eyes, sitting up slowly. Harley was no longer curled up near him, but judging by the fact it was dark outside, he wasn’t sure where the young boy could be. Tony had taken his advice to heart and started locking the lab so Harley couldn’t sneak down there unsupervised and Harley still didn’t like to eat unless he okayed it with someone first. 

Finally, he gave up, humming quietly, “Fri, where’s Harley?”

“Harley turned back into his normal age almost an hour ago,” the ai’s voice rang out and the words pierced him like a bullet to the heart, “He’s on the roof now, looking at the skyline. I’m keeping an eye on him, but if you’d like to join him, it might be a good thing.”

Peter jolted, standing up and breathing out a quick thanks before leaping out his always open window and sticking himself to the side of the building to climb up. The elevator would’ve been too slow and he really hated the idea of Harley- at any age- on the roof, just sitting there. He got closer when he noticed a pair of bare feet hanging off the side, and a very familiar face peering down at him.    
  
“You’re not supposed to use your powers without a mask,” Harley’s voice was once again the lower, relaxing tones it had been before this entire incident, “You know Tony doesn’t like that.”    
  
“You were up here alone,” he replied when he was in hearing range, pulling himself up, “I didn’t want to wait for the elevator.”   
  
“I wasn’t gonna-”   
  
“I know.”   
  
“I-” Harley looked at him, and Peter took a second to study him. 

This was the boy he had been so so cruel to last time they talked. When Harley was a kid, he had less freckles, and his teeth were still crooked, and his eyes didn’t have bags under them yet, and he didn’t have that small scar running parallel to his left eyebrow. Peter wanted to reach out and touch it, but didn’t. 

Judging by the way Harley’s eyes are flicking over him, Harley must be studying his features too. He wondered if he should read into that. He decided he probably shouldn’t. 

Instead of dwelling on the slope of Harley’s neck, or the way Harley’s eyes are flitting across his face, he clears his throat, “How are you feeling?

“Really… weird,” The words come out slow from Harley’s mouth, each syllable sounding chunky, “I remember everything. And it’s… it’s… weird. Being four again was weird. Having my dad fresh in my mind again was weird.”    
  
“Yeah,” Peter felt his heart pang with sympathy, “Yeah. It must be hard.”    
  
Harley looked away from him, eyes focusing on the skyline, “I didn’t really want you to know about that part of my life.”    
  
Oh. Oh god- of  _ course  _ Harley didn’t want him to know about his dad, about the abuse, about all of that. That was probably some of his biggest trauma and something he probably wanted to keep private, not have it be a topic of conversation in the compound for weeks. Harley had been forced to share his most traumatized parts with them because of a spell Wanda made and- 

Swallowing back his guilt, he choked, “I’m really sorry-”   
  
“Stop over thinking it,” Harley still wasn’t looking at him but unlike every other time before, it seemed more natural, less forced, “You’re overthinking it. I don’t care that everyone talked about it for awhile, and I don’t care that Wanda did that, and I don’t care how you found out- just- I didn’t want  _ you  _ to know about that.”   
  
“Oh,” His hands were shaking, so he pressed them flat against the building, “Just me?”   
  
“Don’t think stupid thoughts, Peter,” his eyes were drawn to how close Harley’s hand was to his now, “I didn’t want you to know about it because I really really really wanted to be your friend, and I guess- I guess I don’t like sharing that part of me with many people, and I wanted to get to know you more first. And then, when I thought we  _ were  _ friends, you said that, and it kinda put in perspective that you didn’t want me around-”   
  
“No!” Voice jumping out of his throat, the words came before he could stop it and his thoughts came tumbling out, “See thats what i thought too and then you  _ weren’t  _ around and I  _ missed you  _ so much because you’ve become a part of me and my friends and the people I  _ care about  _ and I was so stupid to say those things Harley- I was an  _ idiot.  _ You don’t ruin everything and you make me a much much happier person! I didn’t- I’m so sorry- I-”

He took a deep breath because he had too, “Harley Keener, you’re one of these people that just gets under my skin, because I notice you every time I go into a room and you’re there. You’re always by my side at school and I didn’t realize how comforting that was until you ignored me for a week and I felt like I was dying. You’re smart and clever and you help me see things that I don’t always see, and you needle and nag me into realizing new things, and I just- you’re not bad. You’re not bad, and you don’t ruin things, and I’m sorry that I ever said those things to you because it was never about you, it was always about me not realizing what I was actually feeling.”    
  
“Oh,” Harley breathed out, and suddenly those blue eyes were on his, and they were looking at each other with a spark of intensity that Peter didn’t think he’d find anywhere else, “I forgive you. God- of course I forgive you. I just… got so nervous at the idea of you truly hating me, I guess. I’m glad I don’t ruin everything.”    
  
“You don’t ruin  _ anything,”  _ He corrected because he couldn’t not correct that, “You didn’t ruin anything. You’re just- You’re like-” All the air left his lungs as he struggled to find the words, “Everyone around me brings my world and my senses up to a 5 or a 6 but with you it all goes down to a one because you’re all I focus on when we’re around each other and I thought- I thought that was because you were suddenly invading my life but you  _ weren’t.  _ It's just that- when you’re around- it's always just-”    
  
“Just me and you?”    
  
“Yeah.” 

They sat in silence, just looking at each other for a while. Peter tried to ignore how his heart was pounding in his ears because he was almost sure he had just confessed feelings that he wasn’t even sure he had fully processed yet. He knew the saying- never know what you have until you lost it and it was  _ true.  _ It was  _ true.  _

He didn’t know what he had at all until Harley was completely gone from his life. The first week of him being ignored, in then the next two taking care of a little kid that was Harley but not  _ his  _ Harley. He hadn’t known what he had had in his life- how  _ special  _ his Harley was- until his Harley was gone. And he wasn’t gonna make the same mistake again. He didn’t think he  _ could.  _

From this moment to his dying day, Peter was gonna devote every spare second he could to Harley being happy. To Harley’s smile. To his life. To him. 

“Harley-” He began, ready to express these feelings, to say how much it meant, to tell him everything in his mind, to show and prove that he was going to be there from now on, by his side, helping him through life, loving him however Harley wanted Peter to love him. 

But Harley just shook his head, a small smile on his lips, “You’re thinking too loud again Peter.”

They looked out to the horizon in front of them, and Peter felt his own smile on his lips as Harley’s hand inched closer to his. 

  
Their pinkies linked, under the lights of New York, they relaxed.    


**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, I hope yall really liked this! My tumblr is Peachy-Keener, and if you did like this make sure to leave a comment!


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